


Wish Upon a Star

by ExoRipper



Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2019-08-03 12:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16325921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExoRipper/pseuds/ExoRipper
Summary: A hasty wish, made in a heartbeat and fueled by anger. An outcome Connor didn't expect, or even want. A blink of an eye, and he woke up in Beacon. During the season 3 finale of all times and places. His future went down the drain that day, his average fate turned grim before his very eyes. Caught up in the dark affairs of a foreign world, how will he fare?





	1. Connor Trailer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Connor is introduced, and promptly goes overboard.
> 
> Warning: Reader discretion is advised, as the chapter contains (excessive) violence, and mild descriptions of blood and wounds.

  
It was a quiet autumn evening, leaves turning rusty on their branches and the chilly wind chasing away the heat of the day gone by. Connor walked home, fresh out of his shift. He wandered the streets, with a small detour in mind. All around him, people walked aimlessly, enjoying the bearable weather while it still lasted.

He reached a small bar on the corner of a building. A rustic locale with large windows, a hardwood floor, walls of exposed bricks, and proclaiming itself an inn. That was if the neon sign hanging outside the door, reading Marie's Inn, told the truth, which Connor knew full well didn't. But the name caught on, and attracted people in the otherwise urban area.

Much like it'd attracted him for the first time all those months ago, when he'd seen it in passing and decided to check it out. He loved the quiet, calm atmosphere. The soothing jazz playing in the background. The lightbulbs made to look like torches, hung around on walls and the few pillars in the room.

He swung the backpack off his shoulders as he entered, and threw it on a chair. With a tired grunt and a loud creak, he allowed himself to fall next to it, the wooden chair beneath him tipping and almost having him fly on his back. The other patrons shot him glares for that, and for his rude breaking of their silence, so he cracked a worried smile and waved his hand as a sorry.

From behind the counter, Marie chuckled at his little stunt, covering her rosy lips with the back of her hand. She got out in the open and approached his table, Connor's eyes glued to her every move. Because he loved the bar, and their _ale_ , but Marie...

Oh, Marie. Her dark hair flowing gently down her shoulders, the knee lenght dress that covered her legs, and the way she grew to tease and annoy him the moment she'd noticed him become a regular patron at her place. Friendly teasing, mind you, with skin-deep jabs and muted laughter to not disturb the rest of the clients, but it had done the trick for him. Caught his attention, then his interest, and slowly his heart.

"Hey Connor, how's your day been?" She asked, stopping next to him and leaning on the table with both hands.

"Usual stuff," Connor answered. "Wake up, go to work, come home, grab a mug of something. You know," he said, leaning closer to her.

"So what will you have?"

"A mug of your cheapest _ale,_ " he ordered, particularly attentive to make the sarcasm attached to that last word obvious. Because he knew the difference between ale and lager beers, unlike the rest of the people that frequented this place in search of nothing more than a mug of something cold, and he made sure to annoy Marie with that fact whenever he got the chance.

"Anything else?" She asked, the look in her eyes threading dangerously close to his.

"A minute of your time, maybe..." Connor teased.

Marie straightened her back suddenly, popping up straight from the leaning position. A smile appeared on her lips, warming up her features and giving them an almost surreal glow. In Connor's eyes at least, the same ones he couldn't convince to break away from her slender figure and the light steps that carried her back behind the counter.

She returned with a tall glass mug on a tray, filled to the brim with golden liquid and white foam on top. Connor took it, and sipped some out so it wouldn't spill. Marie sat next to him, leg over leg, facing him. With a curious air about her, and not muttering a single word as Connor simply stared.

"Soooo..." she mumbled, seeing Connor put down the mug. "A minute of my time?"

"Yeah," Connor answered, looking like he'd suddenly remembered something. Which made her heart pump just a bit faster. "I wanted to ask...how's _your_ day been?"

She sighed and waved her hand around, as if trying to dissipate his cluelessness. Her feet planted themselves firmly, and she wanted to get up.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Connor burst out, on the verge of yelping as he jumped and caught her hand. "Good God, I'm not that stupid..." he mumbled as she sat back down. "Or am I?"

"Honestly," Marie answered as her smile returned, "you're worse most of the time."

"Ouch, that really hurt," he joked as his voice softened. "You really know how to dish out a blow." She chuckled, but the questioning look in her eyes remained. "Wanna hang out when you're done here?" He gave in.

"Sure thing," she answered with enthusiasm. "But."

"Here we go..."

"Only if you promise you won't repeat the club fiasco three weeks ago," she demanded.

"Promise," Connor answered in a heartbeat. A bit too fast for her liking, so she raised her eyebrow and made it obvious that she didn't buy it. "For real, I promise I'll behave this time," Connor pressed on. "No drinking, no dancing, no...disastrous end. We'll go somewhere alone, just the two of us..."

"Aww, fine," she gave in with a cheery voice. Particularly pleased by that _just the two of us, alone_  part, but she'd not let him in on that just yet. "You better not make me regret this," she continued, leaning over to him and stealing a quick kiss.

That did the trick, cutting his messy line short as his breath got caught in his throat. He watched her get up and walk away, only answering an _mhmm_ when she asked if he'd wait for her here.

The beer disappeared one sip at a time, so slow that it neared room temperature. Marie did laps of the room, serving the other clients and shooting Connor quick, amused glances. She'd never seen him as quiet, and with a smile as big and dumb as he sported now. Which was a nice change of pace, she thought. Made him look almost cute, like a small puppy waiting for his master's return.

Lost in her every move, he noticed a blurr of movement by the entrance. His head turned to face it, and he saw three men enter the small bar one by one, all wide shoulders and imposing figures. Their exposed forearms were covered in matching tattooes, likely members of a local gang or another.

Connor turned his attention back on the beer, ignoring them. One of them pointed his way.

'Oh boy...'

Two broke away from the exit and approached his table, while the last one remained by the door.

'Not letting me slip away, huh?'

They neared his table, and stopped in front of him. One grabbed his backpack and threw it to the floor, sitting down on the chair.

'Thug one,' Connor decided.

The other one sat down opposite of his friend, squishing Connor in the middle. He put his hands on the table and leaned on them, trying to look as relaxed as possible.

'Thug two,' Connor continued in his head. 'And guy by the door is thug three. No, Pussy actually,' he decided, seeing the man stay behind.

He picked up his beer, and took a slow sip out of it. Thug one leaned into him, bumping his shoulder and almost making him spil the mug.

"Could you guys not?" Connor mumbled on a tired tone. Not wanting to attract attention, and most of all not wanting to scare Marie. "I'm really not in the mood..."

He received another shoulder bump for an answer, this time from his right. He took a deep breath, trying to stifle his anger and hoping he'd see it through without a fight.

"Let's talk this out," he told the men. "I'm sure it's all a...misunderstanding."

"You're Connor, right?" Thug one asked from his left.

Another sigh.

"Yeah," he answered. "But I never met you guys before, I didn't do anything to you. If you want to fight me just for the heck of it, we can do it some other time."

Thug one let out a puff of air through his nose. A laugh maybe, Connor thought, but not any less annoying.

"Not us, but you've met my cousin," the man answered.

"Care to refresh my memory?"

"Tall, blonde, perfect teeth," Thug one explained. "Until he met you at the club, and you knocked a few of them loose. Rings a bell?"

Connor searched him mind for a few moments, trying to see if it'd return anything resembling that. A night three weeks ago, dazzling lights, loud music, a crowded dance floor, and a few too many beers. Some guy with a bad attitude and too big of a mouth for his own good hit on Marie, and went into creep territory despite both her's and Connor's protests. So he decided to punch some sense into him, bring him back down to Earth from whatever alcohol-fueled world he was in.

"It does," Connor answered. "But he started it, I only defended myself and my friend," he tried to explain.

He looked around the room as he talked, observing his surroundings. The other clients shot them worried glances, some hurried to finish their beers, and others left altogether, with nothing but half-empty mugs to show they were ever there. Marie froze behind the counter, with a look of pure terror in her eyes.

Connor smiled her way, and gestured her that he had the situation under control. Tried to act confident too, but she didn't buy it for a moment. Her hands reached beneath the counter, and she pulled out a phone, gesturing him to stay put as she mouthed _police_ and left for the backroom.

"So please..."

"Outside," Thug one continued. "We can _talk_  all you want outside."

"You won't reconsider, huh?" He asked. Thug one nodded a no. "Fine," Connor continued, "how about this then? If you don't leave me alone, I'll break your teeth. Your pal's too," he threatened on a serious tone. "I'm not kidding, I'll make you regret walking through that door," he pressed on when he saw the man grin.

"Get a load of..."

Connor jerked around on the seat. Decked Thug one to his left, pushing the rest of his words back down his throat. The punch connected with his face, and sent him flying on his back, seat and all.

"You little..."

Connor dodged below a punch from his right, and pushed against the floor with his legs. His chair slid backwards, and he kicked it away from beneath himself as he jumped to his feet.

The man by the door approached him from behind, seeing as Connor didn't plan to use the exit any time soon. Thug one ran a finger on his upper lip, brushing away the sliver of blood escaping his nostrils. They all tensed up, ready for the brawl that would follow.

Connor swivelled around on his heels, and took off. His left shoulder came up as he ran, and he tackled Pussy onto a table. An occupied table, who's clients screamed and jumped to their feet. With his fists raised, he turned and blocked a swipe from thug number one.

The men went right on the offensive, trying to gang up on him. A classic _knock him down and kick his lights out_ move, so Connor tried to keep them separated. He backpaddled, away from them and towards the bar, trying to decide on the order in which to fight them.

'Thug one is pretty big,' he thought. 'Can't focus on him, it'll give the other two an upper hand. Thug two is scrawnier, but he's still buff...' The men separated, trying to flank him. Thug one came at him head on, while the other two came at his sides. 'Pussy is the smallest,' he concluded, watching them move one step at a time. 'Probably good at catching up to people and tackling them, but not much else...'

He reached the bar, his back colliding with the counter as he ran out of space. Thug one took the opportunity and charged him, but Connor smiled at that. He took on a low stance, feet spread wide and arms covering his face. The man realized what was about to happen, but he didn't have time to stop. Connor dashed ahead and slammed his chest in Thug one's abdomen. He got up and leaned back, using the man's momentum to throw him over his head and onto the counter.

Thug one landed wide-eyed, with a hollow thud and glass bottles smashed to pieces as he rolled off the counter and behind the bar. The other two watched in disbelief, frozen in place and with their guards up.

Connor grabbed a chair next to him and threw it at Thug two. Before it hit, he took off running for Pussy, his left arm drawn back and ready. Distracted by the seat hitting his friend in the face, Pussy didn't manage to see him coming, or much less dodge the punch.

It connected with his lower ribs, and Connor almost carried him off his feet. A sharp yelp left the man's lips, and he fell to the floor, squirming as he grabbed his abdomen and struggled to breathe.

"Motherfucker!" Thug two yelled.

Connor turned to face him, and saw his eyes bulged with anger. They held the intent to kill, sharp and focused, red veins popping out of their white sclera as he charged ahead. The chair he'd caught came down on Connor's head, one of it's legs breaking against his left shoulder as the force of the hit pushed him to his knees.

"Think you're some big shot?!" Thug two screamed, lifting the chair for another hit.

Connor looked up at him, his scalp gashed and bleeding. Surprisingly calm given his condition and circumstances, which made Thug two hesitate for a moment. Connor shot to his feet, and planted the top of his head in the man's mouth with all his might. They flew off their feet and landed on a table, one of it's legs giving way under their combined weigth. Entangled in a mess of blind punches and kicks, they rolled to the floor, with Connor on top.

"Say goodbye to your teeth!" Connor yelped and dove his left elbow in the man's mouth.

He got up, the left arm good as useless after the two stunts he'd put it through. Next to him, thrasing about wildly, thug two spit out blood as he gurgled nonsense.

'Fuck, I overdid it,' Connor thought, feeling the blinding pain that surged through his left arm. Between the punch and the elbow dive, the thing had likely dislocated somewhere along its length. And now it hung by his side, a useless bundle of crackling lightnigs that jabbed the back of his skull.

He looked around the bar, at the terrified clients that hadn't managed to flee yet. They were frozen near the walls and windows, retreated as far away as they could get from the madness. By the door that lead to the back room, Marie stood with tears in her eyes and her mouth covered in shock.

"Marie, I'm..." Connor blabbered, reaching his right hand in her direction. She hid behind the doorframe partially, a clear message for him to stay away, so he stopped talking. Not like a simple sorry would change anything anyway.

He noticed the distinct lack of gibberish from the floor, so he turned around. Pussy and Thug two made their escape, limping towards the exit.

'Cowards...'

With his back turned, he didn't notice Thug one get up his feet. All he heard was Marie, screaming his name, as the man ran into him and stomped him to the floor.

"I'll...fucking...end you..." he struggled, kicking Connor's ribs with all his strength.

From outside, the other two yelped in surprise. The door of the bar flew open, and two police officers entered side by side, batons ready in their hands.

"Everyone freeze, hands behind your heads!" One of the officers instructed.

Thug one stopped mid-kick, with one foot in the air. Connor grabbed it and pulled it out from beneath himself, making him crash to the floor face first.

"I said freeze!" The officer repeated, reaching for his tazer.

Connor leapt on the man's back as he retreated, and coiled his right arm around the guy's shoulder. Pulled it back, until their arms locked properly.

"Told you," he said as he pulled the arm further back and planted his foot between the man's shoulder blades. "I'll make you regret it."

With a single, swift motion, he jerked his body to the left. A sickening crunch left Thug one's shoulder as it dislocated out of it's socket, and he broke out with yelps of pain and profanities spit out between clenched teeth.

Connor let go of the arm, and it fell to the floor limp. A sharp shock surged through his body before he could take a step away, made him crash down as his world went blurry and dark.

* * *

 

"You have a visitor," a voice resounded through the empty corridor.

Connor grunted and turned to face the cell's door. His entire body ached from head to toe, and his left arm was wrapped in a piece of cloth that kept it tight against his torso. The movement made it flare up with hurt again, as he'd not been given any painkillers.

'Fuck...'

And to make matters worse, the harsh neon light of the police station fed his splitting headache. It was an unrelenting sensation, crawling beneath his scalp and pinning needles in his brain.

"Where is he? I'll kill him this time!" A second voice joined the first, at the end of the corridor.

'Double fuck...'

Hasty steps echoed through the otherwise empty place, and stopped in front of his cell. Connor peeled his eyes open, struggling to filter out the flood of white light so he could make out his brother.

"Sup Chris," he mumbled.

His brother sighed and reached a hand to his forehead, threading it through his hair in frustration, yet careful not to disturb the glasses on his nose. His tall, slender figure slowly took contour between the iron bars, until Connor could make out his features.

"Why?" Chris shot a simple question his way.

"Ughh..." Connor answered. "Can you not right now?"

"No, Connor," his brother shot him down. "I can't _not_ right now. It's kinda difficult."

"Because they deserved it," Connor answered. "I tried to talk it out, they attacked me, I gave them hell..."

"That's not what I heard," Chris said, his voice growing louder and betraying his anger. "I heard you attacked them first. I heard Marie called the cops, and you couldn't help yourself and stay put until they arrived."

"So maybe I decked a guy, and maybe I decked him first. What if?" Connor broke out. "They planned to kick my ass, so I kicked theirs first!"

"You broke two ribs on one guy, TWO!" Chris yelled. "Broke the other guy's jaw, along with his front teeth! And dislocated the last guy's shoulder and clavicule, in front of two officers no less!" He got up against the iron bars, so pumped up that Connor feared for a moment he'd break into his cell and strangle him. "Is that fucking self defence?!"

Connor didn't answer. He fell on his back and closed his eyes, pointing his face at the ceiling. Couldn't look at Chris directly, and face what he'd done.

"I went overboard, I know..." he said after a while, as Chris calmed down. That only made him flare back up.

"A little overboard? Understatement of the fucking century," Chris answered.

"Come on, man," Connor pleaded. "You gotta side with me here, you're my brother. I defended myself, I swear."

"I can't," Chris answered, the regret his voice carried loud and clear. "There's withnesses. Testimonies. You started the fight, and you went against the officer's orders when they got there."

Silence settled after Chris finished his line. Connor searched his brain, and analysed everything his brother had presented to him. Witnesses, of course there were many of those, and they complicated stuff. Plus Marie's bar had security cameras, so he couldn't spin this around no matter how hard he'd try.

"Did they tell you anything else?" He asked. "How long is my sentence this time?"

"Six months," Chris answered.

"What?!" Connor yelped.

"You're a regular troublemaker, they've grown tired of you, so they won't reduce it any further," Chris explained. "You're lucky the other guys have worse criminal records and instigation to violence, else you'd be looking at quite a few years behind bars for the shit you did this time."

"How big's my bail?" Connor asked. "I have some money saved up and..."

"No bail this time," Chris cut him short.

"What?! Come on, bro!" Connor broke out, his voice a mix of anger and pleading.

"No!" Chris yelled back. "We can't afford to pay your bails anymore, it's time you learn your lesson. Your actions have consequences, Connor!"

"Six months, Chris!" Connor pleaded. "I'll lose my job, my friends!"

Chris turned to leave, with tears in his eyes. Seeing his younger brother like this hurt, it stung his innards and broke his heart, but he couldn't put up with it anymore. Coudn't put up with _him_ any more, and hoped that this would finally make Connor realize that he can't act out every whim that passes through his head.

"Mom and Dad will visit you tomorrow morning, get ready for that..." Chris said as he took a step away. "Oh, and Marie said you're banned from her bar too. She doesn't want you near that place, or herself, ever again."

"Fuck you bro!" Connor yelled as Chris left.

He fell back down on the hard matress and tried to unwind his tired everything. Heavy thoughts circled his mind, of actions and results and what he could've done differently. But all of that didn't help, or even matter at that point. What had been done had been done, and despite his regrets, he was ready to face the consequences he'd created for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that does it for this trailer. I hope you all enjoyed it, and until next time Exo out!


	2. Careful What You Wish For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which a seemingly harmless wish goes south for Connor, but proves entertaining for someone else.

Chris stopped in front of one of the large windows in the long corridor, guided by a guard since he'd entered. Thick glass separated him from those inside, and he sat down in the plastic chair as he observed the man on the other side.   
  
Sprawled in his seat, with the intercom pressed against his ear and propped in his shoulder, Connor waited. He gave his brother a soft smile, and pointed at the intercom on the other side.   
  
"Sup Chris, how's life?" He asked the moment he picked up.   
  
His left arm was still bandaged, though he'd gotten some of its use back. Still hurt like hell though, and he made a point of moving his shoulder around to tease the pain out. The gash on his head was much better off, mostly done with healing and the stitches hidden by his hair.   
  
"Can you take this seriously for once?" Chris complained, trying to relax but coming up a bit short.   
  
He'd visited his brother often in the past two months, despite the fact he couldn't stand it. Not the prison, not the sight of his sibling in an orange jumpsuit, and especially not Connor's calm attitude towards his own predicament.   
  
"Stress shortens my lifespan," Connor teased.   
  
"But your shenanigans don't?" Chris asked.   
  
"Did you come here to see me, or judge my life again?" Connor asked, a hint of frustration behind his voice. "Cause if it's the latter, it can wait 'till I get out..."   
  
"About that..." Chris continued, ignoring the jab. "Mom couldn't take it any more, so she said she'll pay your bail. BUT," he spoke up, seeing Connor's grin, "on one condition: no more fights."   
  
"I promise," Connor answered almost instantly. Which made Chris frown, because he knew his little brother all too well.   
  
"Not like that, it won't be so easy," he said on a dry tone.   
  
"I swear on my life," Connor pressed on, not in the least pleased by the prospect of spending four more months in there.   
  
Chris nodded a silent no.   
  
"On her life, or mine," he answered. "Or better yet, on both. You'd be dead ten times over by now for swearing on your own."   
  
Connor took a moment to ponder that. Dishing out promises didn't bother him, even though he knew he'd not keep them. Swearing on his own life, even less. But he'd made a point to never swear on someone else's, just in case such stupid superstitions would come true.   
  
"Do we have a deal?" Chris asked, seeing his brother keep silent.   
  
"We do," Connor answered.   
  
"No, that won't cut it. You're not getting around this one, I want to hear you say it," he pressed on.   
  
"Fine," Connor relented. "I swear on mom's life, and on yours, that I won't fight people ever again. Happy now?"   
  
"Yeah," Chris said with a victorious smile. "Pack your bags."   


* * *

They stood in front of a five-story building, with the family car purring gently behind them. It's trunk laid open, revealing boxes packed haphazardly with clothes, dishes, and all of Connor's possessions.   
  
He spun a set of keys around on his fingers, their clatter filling the silence, with an insecure smile that hid his anxiety. Because he'd never taken care of himself, quite the opposite in fact. But it had to happen sooner or later.   
  
"Are you sure about this?" Eve, his mother, asked by his side. She fidgeted on the spot, her eyes red as they held back tears. "You can always change your mind."   
  
"Nah Mom, I'll be fine. Don't worry," he assured her.   
  
"Isn't this a bit too...drastic?" Chris asked as well.   
  
"You forcing my hand with that promise was drastic," Connor answered. "Besides hopping towns and getting a fresh start, there's no other chance for me to keep it."   
  
About two months ago, Chris and Eve had pooled together what little money they had to pay his bail. And they hadn't asked for anything in return, not a single dime, only that he'd stop and think his actions through once in a while. But that was easier said than done. Years of stupid stunts and running his mouth had garnered him quite a reputation, and just as many people that wanted to kick his ass on sight.   
  
So he decided to move. Leave the nest, start fresh somewhere else where no one knew his face and habits. A new life, far from the countless mistakes that ruined his old one.   
  
And truthfully, it wasn't _that_  far away. A little over an hour's drive stood between his family and himself, so it wasn't like he'd moved to the north pole.   
  
"Let's get going," he said as he approached the trunk and grabbed one of the boxes.   
  
From behind him, Chris joined in the effort with a displeased grunt. He tackled the biggest box in sight, perched it on his hands, and caught up to his brother.   
  
"It's a nice place..." he mumbled under the labored breaths.   
  
"Yeah. Quiet town, folks minding their own business," Connor answered. "Hard to run into trouble if you don't make it yourself," he added with a chuckle.   
  
He stopped by the entrance, fumbling with the keys in search of the right one. His eyes wandered around the large, empty space between the buildings, caught on all the greenery and trees. The locals strolled around in the chilly autumn breeze, and he noticed them shoot him passing glances.   
  
'Just smile back,' he told himself.   
  
A petite girl on a bench met his stare with hers, and answered his smile with her own. She looked a bit confused by him, but he'd expected his new neighbours to be curious.   
  
"I already like this place," he told Chris as he turned the key and opened the door.

* * *

"Hey sweetie, how was your week?"   
  
"It was good, Mom..." Connor answered his phone, still half asleep.   
  
"How was work? Are you well? Do you eat healthy like I taught you?" Eve bombarded him with questions.   
  
"Crappy, yeah, and yeah..." he answered again, a bit annoyed. "You don't need to worry about me, I'm not a kid anymore."   
  
"Oh Connor, I'll always worry for my baby."   
  
He sighed as he got up. It had been a boring, long week, so the moment he got home he flopped in the bed. A nap quickly subdued him, and he decided he wouldn't even try to fight it back.   
  
"Hello? Earth to Connor, are you still there?" Eve asked loudly.   
  
"Yes mom, I didn't go anywhere. What were you saying?"   
  
"I asked if I can come visit tomorrow," she repeated the question he missed.   
  
"Not tomorrow, I’ve got a date planned .and I'll be out late. I'll be home all Sunday though, you can come then."   
  
"Oh, a date?!" Someone broke out in the background. "Give me the phone, Mom!"   
  
"Fine, fine..."   
  
He listened to the fight and to the distorted sounds coming from the other end, pack of cigarettes in hand as he made his way to the kitchen between various unpacked boxes and the general chaos that came with moving out. It shook as he opened a window, and he lit up the cigarette that came out.   
  
"Yo," he yelled.   
  
"Yeah," an answer came, this time from his brother.   
  
"How are you Chris?"   
  
"I'm good lil' bro, stellar!" Chris answered. "You on the other hand though, you sound much better off. Not even a month since you left home, and you're already hitting it off with chicks."   
  
He gave Chris a chuckle and puffed the cigarette.   
  
"You know it man. I hit it off great with a girl at work, so I thought why not give it a shot..."   
  
"Go for it bro. Also, how are you holding out on that promise?"   
  
Connor sighed. He leaned on the sill, pushing his head out into the chilly breeze. Winter neared closer every day, and although it hadn't snowed yet, it wasn't far off either.   
  
"Still going strong," he answered. "I got angry a few times, but I walked away. It's eating me up inside though..."   
  
"It'll get easier, hang in there," Chris reassured him. Conscious of the struggle his brother went through, and of the difficulty of fighting back his nature. "And besides, me and Mom aren't near you this time to save your ass, so you're on your own."   
  
They kept talking for a while, about anything and everything. The rest of his brothers and sisters were worried for him as well. Knowing his feisty nature, they all expected him to get into trouble by now. Which, surprisingly enough, hadn’t happened yet.    
  
"So are you doing anything tonight?" Chris asked.   
  
"I'll catch up on one show or another, and go to sleep. I'm tired," Connor answered.   
  
"Which one?" Chris asked.   
  
Connor was reluctant to answer. He knew they both watched the same shows, and he knew how much Chris liked spoiling them for him.   
  
"I think I'll go with RWBY. The Walking Dead has an entire season I've missed, Breaking Bad as well..." he explained. "But I only missed the season three finale on RWBY."   
  
Chris smiled and started to laugh.   
  
"Want some spoilers?!" He burst out. "Pyrrha gets..."   
  
"Shut the fuck up!" Connor yelped back, cutting his brother short. "I didn't go on the internet all week to avoid them, don't you dare!"   
  
Chris laughed louder at that, so Connor couldn't help himself and joined in.   
  
"Okay, Imma leave you to it," he said after he stopped.   
  
"Okay, bye bro. See you Sunday."   
  
"Take care of yourself," Chris said and hung up the call.   


* * *

Connor extinguished the cigarette and threw it out the window, pausing for a moment as he looked around below. The small city sprawled in front of him, claiming the night with lights and activity as far as the eye could see. Which was quite far from the fifth floor where his small apartment resided, and he loved the view.

His eyes slid across the scenery, over the sea of rusty leaves and stubby red rooftops poking out of it. Settled in front of his building, and on the people passing by. Some walked, some jogged, and a single girl stared at her phone as she stood on a bench outside. A pretty cute girl at that, much like his coworker and potential date, or the rest of them for that matter.

‘Plenty of fish,’ he thought with amusement for a moment.  
He went back to his room after a while, with a plate of food in his hands. The evening was quiet, which made him sleepy, but he really wanted to see the season 3 finale.   
  
As his crappy laptop turned on and buffered the video, he changed in his pajamas: a white shirt with cartoonish skulls patterned on it, a pair of plain pants, and his never missing wool socks. The ones Chris always gave him shit for, but he couldn't care less else his feet would freeze over.   
  
The episode started as the sun dipped below the horizon. Night settled outside, and the first stars lit up the sky with their faint shine. Connor got angrier by the second as he kept watching. Jaune had finally kissed Pyrrha, but then she went to fight Cinder alone. Yang lost her arm, Ozpin probably his life, and Roman managed to topple the atlesian army.   
  
As the final confrontation between Pyrrha and Cinder began, he was so focused he forgot to breathe. It was amazing to see her being able to go toe to toe with a maiden. Then disaster struck again. He watched in disbelief as Cinder defeated and then killed Pyrrha. He leaned back in his chair and took off his headset.   
  
"Fuck this show," he mumbled with his eyes closed just as Ruby's silver eyes manifested.    
  
He opened his eyes and looked beyond the monitor. Through the window, he could see a red star glimmering lonely. Venus, or the Vesper if he remembered correctly. The night's first star.   
  
'I wish I could've been there to change their fates...'   
  
He closed his eyes again and sighed. The chair beneath him suddenly got colder, and he could feel a breeze run through his hair and across his skin. As he opened his eyes to check if he left the window open, he saw that his room was gone and he was on the ground.   
  
An empty street unfolded in front of him instead, with lamps puncturing it's darkness here and there. He looked further ahead in confusion, and saw an all too familiar tower with a dragon circling it.   
  
"Fuck..."   


* * *

"Hmm? What is this?" A dark figure questioned.   
  
It sat alone in a spacious room, at the head of a long table. A round grimm floated lazily in front of it, it's long tentacles swaying gently from side to side.   
  
In it, the figure could see Beacon's downfall take place. It watched the hunters struggle, the army fall, and chaos overtake the academy.   
  
The doors of the room opened wide and a woman walked through. It didn't bother to look up at her as she approached.   
  
"Lord," she addressed it and bowed. "Am I interrupting?"   
  
The figure shook it's hand her way, it's eyes still glued to the grimm in front of it.   
  
"No," it answered, it's deep voice echoing softly. "Report..."   
  
"Everything is going according to the plan. Cinder found the maiden and..."   
  
Bla bla bla, she went on and on. The figure barely listened, its attention attracted by the boy that appeared out of nowhere instead.   
  
"...and soon victory shall be ours!" She finished boasting.   
  
"Very well," it gave a short, uninterested answer.   
  
"Is something wrong, my Lord?" The woman asked with worry. "Did we displease you?"   
  
The figure looked away from the grimm, its eyes wide with surprise.   
  
"No Salem, of course not," it assured her. "But an interesting development took place, and I have to divert my attention away..." The surprise in its eyes faded, and it looked back at the grimm. "So I will let you handle things, I believe you are capable to..."   
  
"Of course, my Lord!" Salem answered with enthusiasm. "I shall leave then, and attend my duties!"   
  
She turned and left the room. The doors closed with loud creaks, and silence settled around the figure once again. It watched the boy walk the streets of Beacon, with curiosity.   
  
A grimm approached him from behind a corner. The figure smiled.   
  
"Welcome to the frey..."


	3. The Beaconing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Connor learns just how terrifying Beacon's downfall is up close, but decides to lend a helping hand regardless.

Connor had never been truly, completely afraid. Somewhere inside his brain, in the fleshy circuitry of neurons that composed him, something had gone wrong.

_Broken._

A missing synapse, maybe. That's what he liked to believe.

A bully back in middle school was the first to find that out. What started as a fight over lunch money had ended with a fractured arm and a few broken ribs. The first of which was Connor's to bare.

_No control._

People avoided Connor after that, friends and bullies alike. And he understood why, but that hadn't made the loneliness easier to bear.

_Isolated._

So when trouble stopped looking for him, he went out of his way to find it. Turned out, he had a knack for that. He found trouble left and right, and always plunged head first into it. Had it been a cry for attention? For validation?

That's what everyone around him believed. His parents, his brothers and sisters, his teachers. He'd been reminded that fact so many times that it sunk in deep. Grabbed a vicious hold of him, and shaped the person he'd become.

_Stubborn._

By the time he started high school, his reputation followed him around like his own shadow.

_"That's Connor, the problem child,"_  he heard wherever he went.

But something changed. Rather than being afraid of him, his new classmates were intrigued. Curious to see the extents to which he'd go for their attention.

_Desperate._

That meant more trouble. He gave teachers flat tires over small grades. Jumped over fences and entered crop fields to steal. Vandalized and fought and—

_Too far._

He'd done too many things, landed himself into too many problems. But he'd never been  _truly_  worried or afraid of the consequences.

Well, that was something the universe was about to change.

* * *

"Fuck!" Connor broke out.

A Beowolf emerged from the shadows up ahead, scanning the street for prey. It's lifeless eyes settled in his direction, and he felt his blood freeze as it crawled through his veins.

"Fuckfuckfuck FUCK!" He yelped as he ran away, as fast as his feet could carry him.

The creature didn't see him. Didn't follow him either, and he was perfectly fine with that. Not like he could do much against it.

'How?!' He asked himself as he ran aimlessly, his steps turning into large strides as fear pushed him from behind.

Something, or someone, brought him to Beacon. During the season three finale of all times and places, smack in the middle of its downfall. That much he was sure of. The how and why, those escaped him, if they existed at all.

'Don't tell me, it can't be...'

The wish. Made in a heartbeat, without much thought, and driven by childish anger. But it couldn't be. He refused to believe it.

'You make wishes over shooting stars and birthday cakes, but they don't fucking come true!' He thought with frustration. Still, nothing else came to mind. 'Maybe it's all a dream, it's got to be...'

Lost in thought, he didn't pay attention as he took a corner. He ran face-first into a fleeing mob, and they knocked him to the ground in their frantic run for safety. The sea of feet rushed over him, kicking and stomping him as they ran.

He bunched up on the ground, trying his best to avoid them, to no avail. Most of them missed him, but a few hit their unintended mark. Sharp surges of pain erupted along his body, and his ears rang from all the screams that reached them. He tried to cover his face with his hands and turn on his belly, but a kick to his face made him lose his bearings.

Some people tripped over him and crashed, but they picked themselves up and kept running. A couple patches of purple between his ribs and a kick to the head later, he was left alone. Sprawled on the cold ground, he contemplated how it all went so wrong.

One of his hands made its way to his face, to a patch between his eyes that tingled and hurt. His fingers came away stained with blood, and he looked at it as his mind tried to form proper thoughts. Filled with curiosity and questions, but he somehow knew they'd not be answered. Not by him at least, since he had no idea how he managed to land himself in this mess.

"Okay. Not a dream..." he concluded as he felt the pain. "And I have no Aura either," he deduced after he wiped away the blood a few times but more kept flowing.

He got on all fours and made his way to the nearest wall, to recline against it and analyze his situation in peace. His thoughts needed some serious searching and organizing as well.

'It's got to be that wish,' he thought as the shock slowly creeped into his soul. 'I wished I could've been here to change  _f_ _ate_ , so I guess I should start with that...'

He looked up at the sky and tried to guess how far into the downfall he was. The Atlesian ships no longer floated in Vale's skies, so Roman was already dead. That meant the robots also stopped working, and Pyrrha's final battle was about to begin.

'How the heck do I get there though?' He asked himself as his eyes settled on the Beacon Tower. 'And more importantly, how do I change it?'

A few minutes came and went as he allowed his world to settle down. His breath smoothed out, and his heart finally felt like it wasn't ready to jump out of his chest and outrun him anymore.

He reclined against the wall and pushed himself up, ready for round two. The stampede that ran him over left him dizzy, with a splitting headache that fed his confusion. Or it could've been the other way around, but that didn't matter at the moment. He had no time to stay put and wait it out. More Grimm could pass by, and he couldn't risk being caught.

His newly chosen destination, the Beacon Tower, was quite a ways away. It stood tall amongst the stubby buildings that surrounded it, looming ominously over the entire academy with it's sharp roof that seemed to puncture the sky. Connor took off towards it, with shy steps as he realized the madness of what he was about to attempt.

'I'm so gonna die...'

Although he picked up speed, he did so cautiously. He stopped every now and then to scope out his surroundings, and continued only after he made sure there was no danger.

No more Grimm crossed his path, but he was sure their numbers would rise near the tower. That's where all of the action was, and unfortunately that was also his destination.

A ground shaking roar stopped him dead in his tracks as it echoed all around him and made his innards vibrate with it's ferocity. The dragon crashed into the CCT antenna and sent the tower's top plummeting into the streets below. He watched on in disbelief. It was one thing to see it on a monitor, safe and cozy in his apartment, but it was something else entirely to witness it for real. His hairs stood up on their ends and he felt a cold shiver crawl around beneath his skin.

'I won't make it in time,' he realized.

Pyrrha had a couple more minutes to live at best. Definitely not enough time for him to get to her, though he started doubting whether or not he even wanted to make it there anymore.

'What now?' He wondered. 'Will this be some Groundhog Day type of deal, where I'll fail over and over again?'

The prospect of being caught in a time loop scared him to say the least. He took a couple wobbly steps down the street, lost and unable to decide what to do next.

"Get away from her!"

That voice. He turned to face it's source as an icy shiver ran down his spine and locked it into place. It was Yang, and she was close by, likely yelling at Adam to get away from Blake. The scene unwinded in front of Connor's eyes as he tried to decide what to do.

'I can't reach Pyrrha in time,' he thought as he picked up the pace and changed direction towards the burning building the yell came from, 'and I can't do anything for her either. But maybe I can...save...'

He froze in front of a window as he reached the cafeteria, too late once again. Still suspended in mid-air, as if time turned to molasses, Yang lost her right arm to Adam's blade in front of his eyes. He saw her slowly hit the floor, and along with her, his heart as well—followed shortly by her severed arm. He fell to his knees, bitter anger towards his weakness melting down and pouring out of his heart.

'Get up...'

The muscles in his feet tensed as Adam approached Blake, yet Connor couldn't move. What he saw unfold in front of him left him petrified.

'Get up.'

His heart beat faster when he saw Adam bring down his sword on the two girls. Blake fastened her grip around Yang's torso and distracted Adam with a clone while the two of them got away. They were both hurt, and Connor knew they wouldn't make it far in their condition.

'Get up!'

A rush of adrenaline invaded his bloodstream and sent everything it met into overdrive. He bolted up his feet and jumped through a broken window in the food court Blake just fled through. Adam took off after the girls, his sword drawn and stained with blood as he walked calmly.

'This is a fever dream or something, it has to be,' Connor thought as he watched them get away.

He wanted to give chase and help out, but his body fought him back as he shivered from his core. Adam wasn't someone he should've messed with - wasn't someone he  _could've_  messed with for that matter - and he was fully aware of that. He wasn't a random thug from back home, he was a hardened criminal and crazy strong even by the show's standards.

'Damn it, Connor, pull yourself together,' he tried to convince himself. 'You have to help.'

Connor knew he stood no chance against him, at least not empty-handed. He got to where Yang hit the floor, and avoided the trail of crimson blood that escaped the severed limb. It found its way into his hands, and his fingers shook wildly as they felt it's leftover warmth invade his skin.

'This is so fucked up,' he thought as he tried to remove the gauntlet.

His fingers slipped off the slick metal, aided by all the sickening  _red_  that flowed between them as he struggled.

'Come on, you...stupid...thing...'

With a click and a hollow thud, the gauntlet freed itself and fell at his feet. He picked it up, unsteady as his stomach contorted with disgust.

His head swivelled from side to side as he left the burning ruins behind in search of the two girls. Or, at least, of the man trailing them. To his displeasure, his eyes landed on the latter.

'Great...'

Blake was nowhere in sight, but he caught a glimpse of Adam as he jumped the stone fence of the flower garden they were in. He took off after him, struggling to fit his hand into the gauntlet as he ran.

'Come on, slip over my wrist!' He thought with frustration.

He crossed the garden in record time, stomping all the flower beds in his wake. As he reached the fence and climbed over it, he saw the girls heading for the Vytal festival fairgrounds. He tried to mount the gauntlet onto his right hand, and hoped he'd figure out how to use it before he'd reach the mad leader of the White Fang.

'Okay then, I'll fire you like a damn shotgun,' he decided, as the gauntlet stubbornly refused to fit onto a hand which wasn't its master's.

'How does Yang fire this thing? Is it through the thrusts of her fist, or...' his line of thought got cut short. The fingers he reached inside the gauntlet found what they were looking for: buttons. Triggers, he hoped, as he rushed to catch up to them.

Adam, on the other hand, rushed nowhere. That was something that Connor recognized right away. Adam was a predator, playing around with his next meal before he finished it off. His only intent at the moment was to terrify Blake, and Connor figured it worked. Blake trembled as she ran, and he saw tears flood her eyes whenever she turned her head around.

'It's working a little too well,' he thought as he trembled with fear himself.

That fear didn't last for long. It turned to pure terror in the next moment as he saw Blake fall and take Yang along for the ride. This allowed Adam to catch up to the girls, but it also allowed Connor to catch up to Adam.

'Do promises count in another world? Cause if so, sorry bro.'

Connor jumped him from behind, and his hit actually landed—leaving everyone present surprised. His momentum carried him half-way between Adam and the girls, and he thought that not even a spotlight shining down on him could attract more attention than he already got.

'Great job, Connor,' he though as he straightened his posture. 'If you make it out of this alive, you should go and search for that thick head of yours, as it's clearly not attached to your neck right now.'

He searched for the buttons inside the gauntlet while he struggled to not break eye contact with a clearly annoyed Adam.

"I should kill you right here and now for this," Adam said on a tone that bled anger. He turned his face towards them to reveal a rapidly healing broken lip. "But my curiosity is getting the better of me. So, tell me: how the hell did you get past my aura?"

A confused look appeared on Connor's face. He opened his mouth, ready to confess that he had no idea. He hadn't paid much attention to the lore of Remnant while watching the show, but Adam's mention of aura made him remember that it enhanced their senses as well as their bodies.

He didn't get to utter a word. One of Adam's goons rushed in, screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Master!" He started the moment he saw Adam. "We've got to go!"

"I'm kind of in the middle of something, if you didn't notice," Adam replied and shot his subordinate a glare.

The man took a step back before he continued.

"I'm extremely sorry, but the situation here is getting out of hand. Grimm are everywhere and now this huge, dragon-looking one is running rampant as well..." He continued to explain. "We can't risk staying here another minute."

Adam's gaze turned as sharp as knives, cutting just as deep. The tension in the air shot up, as the two of them locked their eyes in a staring contest that would end really bad for one of them.

'And that's gonna be me, of course.'

Connor's next breath was deep. A little more so than he intended, but he needed to relax his nerves. He tried responding to Adam's gaze with his own, but he couldn't hide his fear in a situation as deadly as this.

Adam pushed his right foot forward and reached for his sword. The red blade peeked at them from inside the sheath as he drew it out slowly, a cold promise of death shining along it's edge. Connor propped the gauntlet into his shivering shoulder, his fingers ready on the triggers as his own pulse grew deafening in his ears.

"What's your name, stranger?" Adam asked as his eyes started to gleam red beneath the mask he wore.

"Co..."

A deafening roar cut his answer short, so loud that it made everyone reach for their ears. The Grimm Dragon passed overhead, screaming it's lungs out as it turned towards the tower. Adam looked at it for a split second, but that was all that Blake needed.

Before anyone realized she was on the move, she grabbed Connor by his waist and fled. All that Adam found as he looked back was a fading afterimage. He let out a frustrated growl as he sheathed the sword.

"Sh...should we follow her, sir?" The grunt asked with worry. He was scared of Grimm, but he was more scared of an angry Adam, so he decided to take his chances. "She couldn't have gotten too far."

Adam looked at the empty street in front of him for a moment before he answered.

"No need for that. She'll come looking for me," he said more loudly than he should have, trying to make himself heard by Blake.

She likely hid in one of the booths in front of him, well within earshot, and he decided that the fairgrounds were an unfitting place to end it all. Below his, and her, dignity as warriors and former friends.

As the Grimm Dragon began oozing it's drops of pure darkness that would birth Grimm in the streets and courts of Beacon, Adam embarked the ship that came to pick him up from the streets. Blake waited for the roars of the engines to fade before she turned towards Connor, who still shivered by her side.

"What were you doing?! Did you just try to get yourself killed?!" She broke out with anger.

Connor watched her in disbelief.

"I was trying to help..." he mumbled an answer.

"Well all you've managed to do was get in the way. Do you have any idea how hard it is to jump three people at once?"

"I'm sorry, okay? I..."

Blake suddenly jumped his way and covered his mouth. He retreated until his back collided with a wooden wall, but she followed him on all fours.

"Just...shhh..." she whispered.

He did as told and put his mouth on hold. Faint stomps and growls came from outside the small booth Blake hid them in. She pushed past him and peeked at the street, but retreated back to her hiding spot quickly.

"A pack of Ursa," she whispered when she noticed his questioning stare. "We need to move..."

She approached Yang on all fours, with Connor close behind. He watched her struggle and fail to lift her unconscious friend off the floor.

"Let me carry her," he offered, although he expected Blake to refuse. "I'm not much of a fighter, so that's the least I can do."

Blake squeezed the stab wound tightly. Her lips distorted into a frown, and she gave a heavy sigh as she looked at Yang.

"Fine," she accepted. "I'll protect us then."

Connor nodded his head in approval. He walked around her and got next to Yang.

"Where are we headed to?" He asked and put Yang's arm over his shoulder.

"To the air docks," she answered and helped move Yang onto his back. "There's an evac point there, and hopefully some doctors as well."

She crawled to the booth's exit slowly and shot Connor a final glance. One filled with worry, which he reciprocated.

"Just follow me. We'll take a route through the training halls," she explained as she reached for Gambol Shroud. "It will take a couple extra minutes, but we won't have to worry about bigger Grimm. They won't fit through there."

"Got it."

She pulled out her weapon and crouched carefully between the booths. Connor followed her slowly as he tried to remain unseen by the Grimm. Out of the fairgrounds, Blake jerked her head to the right. A silent signal that showed him the way, so he took the lead from her.

They ran through the open field, with Blake a couple of steps behind him at all times. The distance she could more or less dash instantly in her current condition, in case shit went sideways or he decided to pull some funny stuff.

No Grimm crossed their path, except for the occasional Griffon that flew overhead. Blake was thankful for that, but she was intrigued as well. She felt no fear or doubt that would attract the creatures, and apparently neither did the stranger, else they'd have been flooded by now.

Something about that didn't add up right, and she felt like a variable got left out somewhere. He said, quite convincingly, that he was not a fighter. That meant civilian, and he more or less looked the part.

'But he had the guts to face Adam,' she thought as she watched him run. 'Maybe he didn't know who he was up against...'

They closed in on the training halls, a building just as large and stubby as the rest. In much better condition though, and for a moment Connor contemplated hiding in there and waiting for rescue.

But they couldn't, the bundle of fiery blond hair cradled on his back reminded him. Both girls needed medical attention of the immediate kind, so he ignored the way his guts twisted as they screamed  _danger_  at him.

He stopped next to the entrance and handed Blake the lead. She passed him and entered the building after a quick check of her surroundings.

"Looks clear," she whispered.

The main hall they entered was spacious, with a high ceiling and far-apart walls. Far from the cramped corridors she said would protect them from larger Grimm, which made him shoot her a questioning glance.

"Third door down," she let him know as they ran.

That third door did indeed lead to a narrower corridor. It ran ahead quite a bit, bending and curving out of sight, with plenty rooms lining it on both sides. Classrooms, Connor suspected, though he didn't have time to check.

A pack of young Beowolves caught up to them. They entered the main hall just as Connor left it, and let out deep growls as they sniffed the air.

"We have company!" He yelled as a few howls echoed past them.

Blake stopped and let him pass her, weapons at the ready. Connor turned his head around and caught a glimpse of her as she lunged at the creatures. To say he was impressed was an understatement. Even wounded and fatigued, she put up a good fight, gracious on her toes as she cut the Grimm to shreds. Gambol Shroud's blades danced in her hands as she moved her body between the creatures, and she weaved her strikes in long combos with unwavering ferocity. She fought not just for herself, but for her fallen teammate and friend. That made her summon every ounce of strength in her body, and pour her soul into each one of her attacks, because she couldn't afford to lose. One after another, the Grimm fell at her feet, slain and evaporating.

'That's a real Huntress in training for you,' Connor thought, blown away by her display.

He deduced that her usable aura was depleted, else her wound would've healed by now. Yet, even so, she didn't use the pistol form of Gambol Shroud. To avoid attracting more creatures, likely, but for a split second it didn't look like she even needed it.

With his head turned, Connor ran ahead blindly. He failed to pay attention to where his feet carried him, and ran face first into an Ursa as he rounded the corner. He bounced off the massive creature and fell to the floor. A guttural rumble from it made his blood freeze as it crawled through his veins, and he felt the color in his face drain away.

'Welp, this is it,' he thought as the Grimm stomped his way, surprisingly calm as doom approached. 'At least I didn't expect to make it out...'

The foot of the Ursa landed beside his head. His heart drummed away wildly, one mismatched beat after another, violent enough that his whole body felt like it bounced off the floor. He grabbed Yang, who laid on top of him, and spun around. He hovered over her, with his back towards the Ursa.

'I'll at least buy her time until Blake can reach her,' he thought.

Yet, to his surprise, the creature strode along. It ignored him and Yang, instead going for Blake.

'What?!'

He got up his feet. A couple more Beowolves and a handful of Creeps passed by, just as ignorant to his presence as the Ursa.

'I'm not gonna complain,' he decided.

Behind him, Blake struggled to hold off against the torrent of creatures. As more and more poured in, she was forced to use bullets. That went about as well as she'd expected, drawing even more creatures to the slaughter.

A slaughter that would end with her, unfortunately. She struggled to stay on the move, and whatever balance she managed to muster came by force. The bloodloss made her entire body heavier by the second, left her feet full of lead and her head spinning with nausea. To make things worse, the stranger approached her the moment he got up, with Yang on his back no less.

"What are you doing?! Run away!" She pleaded.

She lost her focus for a split second. Tripped, missed a swing, and the momentum of her weapon carried her off her feet. She crashed to the ground, amidst the bloodthirsty creatures that surrounded her.

Connor ducked and wiggled his way between claw swipes and bone crushing snaps of teeth. This proved easier than he thought, since they weren't aimed at him. The moment he reached the middle of the hoard, he jumped to the floor and covered half of Blake's body with his.

An angry grunt left her lips, but died down to a pathetic whimper halfway through. She reached around him, grabbed onto Yang, and tried to jump just the two of them out of the crowd.

Not enough aura for that.

She tried to throw him off, but he grabbed onto her hands and pinned them down. A  _shh_  left his lips as he stared, dead serious, into her eyes.

She bit her lip and stopped struggling as a few tears left her eyes. She stopped whimpering as well, and as soon as the sound of her shredded voice vanished, an eerie calm settled.

The creatures growled and stomped around, but didn't notice them anymore. Connor got up his feet and helped Blake onto her's. His free hand grabbed hers, and he slowly pulled her out of the hoard.

"How?" She questioned the moment they got on the move.

Connor gave her a confused look for an answer. Very reassuring.

"I don't know," he spoke up after they rounded a corner and he was confident they were out of the Grimm's earshot. "But if I can hide you from the Grimm, it's a good idea to keep you close..."

" _How_  close?" She asked.

Connor had pulled her in, so close she almost stepped on his heels as they ran. Definitely out of her comfort zone, by at least an arm's length.

"Don't know, it's the first time this has happened," he answered. Not entirely untrue, but he conveniently left out the part that it was his first time encountering Grimm to begin with.

Blake wanted to ask a few more questions, and maybe protest the vice-like grip that held tightly onto her hand. But her burning lungs deprived her of that, keeping her busy with the whole breathing thing in-between the hurried steps she took.

Besides, if the stranger could hide her and Yang from the creatures, breaking out of her comfort zone was a price she was willing to pay.

They cleared the corridor and were lucky enough to not encounter more creatures. Connor let go of Blake's hand and butted heads with the massive door in their path. It opened to reveal a deserted street.

"Just...give me...a second..." Blake struggled between inhales when Connor reached for her.

She wasn't thrilled by the prospect of running any more, and the idea of the stranger holding her hand again was even more social anxiety had a part in that, right along with that stupid little bubble of personal space she was so adamant about keeping. But they weren't the main factor. Although the stranger gave off an air of trust, she felt a strange void creeping out of his soul.

Like he wasn't alive, like he wasn't...human.

Not like her or Yang at any rate, and as that void crawled off his skin and onto hers, it caused a great deal of discomfort on her end.

"How much farther are the docks?" Connor asked, idling by her side.

He knew it was inconsiderate of him to be in such a hurry, since Blake needed to catch her breath. But his arms grew tired from holding Yang on his back.

Oh, and she needed a medic to see her stat. That was also a pressing factor.

"We're a few streets away, let's move," Blake answered.

She left out the  _while I still can_  part so the stranger wouldn't panic, but her body betrayed what her mouth held back. Her steps were wobbly, lopsided as she lagged behind him. Her right hand clutched the wound tightly, red flowing freely between her cold fingers.

They managed to reach the air docks in a couple minutes. Both took a deep breath filled with relief at the sight of a wall of soldiers protecting a flock of civilians from the Grimm.

Many airships were docked, and Connor could see them leave one after the other before more took their place. He reached a hand out to Blake as they approached the sea of death and hungry teeth. She recoiled from his touch, but he snapped towards her and pulled her close.

"Come on," he urged. "It won't kill you..."

"Fine," she sighed in defeat and pushed herself into him. If she'd put up with it, she might as well get a crutch out of the deal too. "Lead the way."

Connor approached the hoard with her in toll. And just like back at the training halls, the Grimm ignored their presence completely. They squirmed their way between claws and angry teeth, dodging swipes and whizzing bullets as they ran.

She noticed him tremble at every growl or pained scream that echoed past. Yet he didn't stop, but clutched her hand tighter and kept going. He had a certain tenacity about him, a fire in his eyes that ignited when he faced Adam and only seemed to grow as they advanced.

'He's definitely not a civilian.'

A dust bullet exploded near them, turning the Beowolf it hit into paste. Connor recoiled away from the blinding ball of fire and heat, pulling Blake behind him to shield her. The bang made his ears ring, and he stopped to plan out his next move. As they approached the safe zone, they entered the soldier's line of fire, so they had to be careful.

'They probably can't see us in the horde,' he realized. The Grimm were packed together tightly here, bumping into each other, and into them, as they tried to reach the panicked people. 'I'll have to get into their earshot and attract attention.'

From his side, Blake grunted and leaned heavier into him. She was probably all out of steam, having divided it between fighting Adam, the Grimm, and trying to heal the stab. This was his signal to move, so he got going. More fire dust bullets exploded around them, claiming the night with bright red bursts of light and the smell of spent gunpowder.

"Hey! Quit it!" Connor yelled. "Stop shooting and help us! Hey!"

One of the soldiers took notice of them. He signaled something to his colleagues and broke away from the formation as gunfire covered his advance.

"Need a hand?" He offered when he reached them.

A quick checkup returned two wounded girls in need of immediate help, so he didn't wait for their answer. He guided them inside the safezone, protecting them from both bullets and creatures.

"Are there any medics here?" Connor asked the moment they were safe.

"No," the soldier answered and turned to leave. "But there are in the safezones down in Vale. Take that ship over there," he said and showed Connor the way. "It will take you just outside of the city, where it's safer."

"Thanks, good luck!"

The soldier gave him a salute, and they parted ways. Connor took Yang to the airship that had been pointed out to him, and once he left her in good hands he turned to leave as well.

"Where are you going?" Blake asked when she noticed him walk away.

"I still have business in the city," he answered.

Truth be told, he had no idea where to go and what to do. But with his newfound ability, he figured he could brave Vale.

'It's a shot in the dark, but what the hell...' he thought as he examined the ships that were left. His feet carried him towards the one filled with most soldiers, which he guessed would take him smack in the middle of the chaos. 'I have nothing to lose anyway.'

"Hey," Blake yelped as the hatch of the ship she boarded rose in front of her, "thank you."

Connor turned his head and flashed her a toothy smile.

"No problem," he answered. "Take care. Oh, and try not to run away again, your friends will be thankful!"

"What?! How do you..."

The latch closed in front of her and cut her off. Connor chuckled as he approached his own ride, but his amusement quickly died down as a frown took over his lips.

'This is such a bad idea,' he decided as he eyed the ship. He'd have loved to spend some time with the cast, to meet everyone, but he figured they weren't in the mood for a fan after the shitstorm they'd just been through. 'I can't just insert myself into their lives, as much as I'd like to. First things first, gotta find out how I got here.'

He entered the ship under the soldier's gazes, but he ignored them. The hatch started rising in front of him, blocking the outside world from view.

'Next up,' he thought, looking over Beacon one final time as the ship departed, 'Vale. May God have mercy on my soul...'


	4. Chapter 3: Pajama Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Connor gets to Vale and picks the worst possible path he can take.

“We’ll land in the main safe zone in a few minutes,” the pilot’s voice resounded through the intercom and filled the cargo hold of the bullhead.  
  
Connor looked up from his seat at the people around him. The civilians shivered with fear, while the Hunters in training and Atlesian soldiers checked their gear. His stomach twisted as well, and he shifted around on the uncomfortable seat. The complete lack of windows, and the maneuvers the pilot pulled, came together to trigger his motion sickness. A slight one, but present and unwelcome on top of his already present shock.  
  
“So…” the man next to him spoke up when he noticed Connor staring, “did you come here for the tournament?”  
  
The man, or boy to be more precise as he didn’t seem older than himself, was a soldier. He was clad in armor with a mean looking rifle around his neck and his helmet in his lap.  
  
“What? Did you fall in love with my rifle or something?” He asked as he gripped its handle tighter and smiled weakly. His other hand threaded through his rusty red hair and slicked it back.  
  
“It’s neat, yeah…” Connor mumbled, not entirely paying attention to him.  
  
He was still contemplating what to do once he’d reach Vale. With nowhere to go, and nothing to do, his options were very poor. He couldn’t stay put though, not when all of his questions needed answers.

‘Something brought me here, probably with a purpose,’ he thought. ‘And since I failed to save Pyrrha or Yang, maybe I should help with the rest of the downfall.’

If there were answers out there, he figured he'd have a better chance to find them if he actually looked. A prospect that got him thinking, that made him _worry_  for a change, and for the first time in his life he wasn't thrilled to get into trouble.

‘This time it could cost me my life. Or more so than before. But I'm as good as dead anyway if I don't find a way back.’ 

And what if he'd fail? If his window of time to make a difference was gone? He needed to take that into account too, as much as he disliked the idea. Until he knew something for certain, he decided to operate under the assumption that he was stranded in Remnant for good. That meant he’d have to adapt, to accommodate, since he had nothing here.

‘I could run off into the wilderness and train maybe…’ he thought. Not a bad plan, all things considered. ‘My newfound ability would definitely help with that.’  
  
“Name’s Clancy,” the soldier boy tried at conversation again. Even reached out his hand for a shake, which Connor answered without a word.  
  
“Nice to meet you…” He blabbered eventually, but didn’t bother to introduce himself.  
  
“Are you a Hunter in training?”  
  
Connor turned and looked at his bothersome new pal with annoyance.  
  
“No, just a civilian,” he answered. “And one that’s trying to think, if you don’t mind…”  
  
“Sheesh…”  
  
The bullhead shook back and forth beneath them before the roar of its engines died down to a whimper. Which meant they finally landed, so Connor jumped out of his seat and approached the latch.  
  
‘If nothing else,’ he thought as it opened, ‘I’ll search the city…’  
  
For what in particular, that much he hadn’t figured out. A purpose maybe, hiding somewhere under a pile of rubble and a ton of Grimm.  
  
Maybe.  
  
Clancy put the rifle behind his back and approached the latch as well. Outside, they could see a huge, restless crowd shuffle about between impromptu tents and torn buildings. Lines of soldiers and Hunters barricaded the streets around the safe zone, and some turrets cobbled together from paladin remains were mounted on the rooftops.  
  
Connor was surprised by what he saw. The army mobilized fast, all things considered.  
  
‘That’s Atlas for you…’  
  
“What a first assignment,” Clancy mumbled under his breath.  
  
Connor ignored him and jumped down before the hatch touched the ground. His eyes scanned the safe zone, looking for a way out that wouldn’t draw attention. One of the torn down buildings caught his eye. It stood three stories tall, and half of it had collapsed into rubble. Could've been an office building once by the looks of it. Flames erupted out of the upper windows, but the ground floor seemed safe enough to allow passage through.  
  
“All civilians please present yourselves to the main tent for identification!” A voice sounded loudly through some speakers.  
  
He ignored that as well, and shuffled through the crowd towards the building. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.  
  
“Main tent’s that way,” Clancy said, nodding towards the tent.  
  
He pondered the possibility for a moment, that the army might help him.  
  
'If I could catch their interest and join them, I'd be set. I'd get training, weapons, money...' But then again they might not, and the prospect of ending up on a dissection table wasn’t appealing. ‘Keep your head straight, Connor. You have to figure out how you got here, and if there's a way back. Solutions now, panic later.’  
  
“Piss off,” Connor gave his answer, which made Clancy freeze up. The surprise was evident in his eyes.  
  
“Hey, I’m only trying to help…”  
  
“Thanks, but I don’t need it,” Connor answered sternly.  
  
“Where are you going? You can’t leave the safe zone, the city is infested with creatures,” Clancy vocalized his worries once again.  
  
They were worries that landed on deaf ears. Connor turned and walked away through the crowd.

 

* * *

 

Connor entered the building through one of the collapsed walls, careful to avoid the debris. Some five meters away from him, a bullhead's tail stuck out from the mounds of torn cement and steel beams.

‘Is anyone still inside that thing?’ He wondered and paused to observe it. Huge chunks of the building’s facade covered it, so he couldn't figure out if a rescue attempt was made. ‘Not much I can do for them, I can't lift that stuff.’

Inside, the building was full of settled dust. A thick layer of it covered everything, and his steps disturbed the particles on the floor, sending them flying around him as he walked. Smoke came in waves from deeper within, and he shielded his eyes and mouth with his arms as he looked for a way around it.

He found a corridor and followed it, passing by opened doors that lead to spacious offices. The evacuation was hasty, he saw upturned desks and people’s belongings strewn everywhere. A deserted street greeted him as he reached the other side and left the building. He crouched between abandoned cars until he put some distance between himself and the safe zone.  
  
A few creatures of Grimm passed him, heading for the collective fear bundled between the walls of mean rifles he left behind. Just like back in Beacon, they didn’t see him. They hadn’t paid any mind to the mouse sneaking between them, and the mouse was perfectly fine with that.  
  
He passed a street filled with torn robots. Some cut in half, some broken to pieces, and most importantly some still clutched their rifles.  
  
‘Score!’  
  
Connor approached one cautiously and gave it a kick. Dead. Or inactive, but he didn’t care to ponder the semantics. Another kick freed the rifle in its grasp, and he took it off the ground.  
  
‘Can I even fire this thing?’ He wondered as he shouldered it. ‘Can I take the recoil?’  
  
He was unsure, as he’d never used firearms before. Had never even seen one, but he felt safer with it so he took it. The belt around the robot’s waist followed suit, along with the holster and the pistol in it.  
  
‘Neat, there’s even a short sword here,’ he thought as he clipped the belt in place. A sword he didn’t know how to swing, but he figured it was good to have.  
  
Yang’s gauntlet he attached by his side, certain he couldn’t use it. The way she propelled her fists with it in the show came to mind, and he didn’t want his arm to fly off along with it.  
‘It’ll only be a last resort kind of thing,’ he decided as he took off.

A few streets came and went as he ran around aimlessly, but he found no people. The evacuation was done, and besides the fact that everything was mostly intact, Vale looked like a ghost town. The image was complete with shadows haunting the streets, with bone white armor and angry red eyes that longed for prey.

The lonely Beowolf up ahead was one such shadow, and it was the perfect candidate for him to test his ability on. He shouldered the rifle and approached it slowly, on his toes. Ready to bolt away the moment it would show any signs of noticing him, which strangely enough didn’t happen.  
  
‘This is very convenient,’ he thought, a few steps away from the creature. ‘How amazing…’  
  
The Grimm mesmerized him. Such violent and bloodthirsty creatures, yet he could approach them no problem. Connor realized just how big the Beowolf was as he got close. Even hunched over, it was a good two heads taller than him. Its dark fur swayed gently in the breeze, and its red eyes left behind streaks of light whenever it moved. The bare teeth of its mask were locked together in a grimace, parting and snipping shut as the Beowolf cooed every so often.  
  
Connor reached out his hand as he took another step, and pointed the rifle’s muzzle down. The moment his palm touched the Beowolf’s fur, he felt a strange sense of relief invade his soul. Distant whispers filled the street, hiding behind corners and abandoned cars as they lingered just on the edge of his hearing.  
  
But he didn’t panic. Didn’t pull away either, even though the creature turned and looked his way. It was all too fascinating, and he got caught up in the moment entirely.  
  
The Beowolf growled out of the blue and straightened its ears. Its gaze moved away, onto the barely visible Beacon Tower in the distance. The movement brought Connor out of his trance, and made him retreat a few steps as he shouldered the rifle. His sight followed that of the creature, just in time for him to be blinded by a powerful flash of light.  
  
'That means that Pyrrha just died, and Ruby did the grey eyes thing,’ he thought as he used his free hand to rub away the stars dancing in his vision. ‘I wonder if she's like the Winter Maiden or something, that would be cool.'

 

* * *

  
  
‘What...was that…’  
  
The last thing Cinder saw before her world went white and painful was Ruby’s angry stare. She’d yelled something, and grey Aura erupted from her eyes before her body burst violently with energy.  
  
Cinder tried to lift her hand and take it to her face, where most of the hurt resided. Lightning cracked along her skin, her body refused to move. Her Aura was almost depleted.  
  
“God...damn you...Rose…” she whispered, so softly she barely heard her own voice.  
  
Her muscles eventually answered her as she called on them, one by one. They felt drained and swollen, but they moved. She opened her right eye slightly. Flashes of light lingered in her vision, made things blurry and messy as she scanned her surroundings. A few feet ahead of her, the grey of the concrete gave way to a red smudge.  
  
She growled.  
  
A glass dagger formed in her right hand. Cinder dragged its tip against the floor, and herself along with it.  
  
"You...will pay..." she whispered as she reached Ruby, the tip of the dagger eroded away.

Cinder grabbed onto Ruby's throat and pulled herself closer. A weak grin appeared on her lips, and her fingers coiled around Ruby’s soft flesh tighter. Her arm shivered with the effort, and she struggled to lift herself on her elbow so she could strike Ruby down.  
  
'Stop, Cinder,' a voice ordered, reverberating inside her skull.  
  
'What? Why?!'  
  
'My Lord,' a second voice filled with confusion joined between her thoughts. The voice of her master. 'I have to agree with Cinder on the matter. Why?'  
  
'Do you doubt my decision, Salem?' The voice asked nonchalantly.  
  
Salem grew quiet, unwilling to contradict her Lord. Cinder, on the other hand, decided to press on.  
  
'The Rose has to die, else she'll be troublesome!' She lifted the dagger and stared Ruby down. Her blood boiled with anticipation as she waited for the order.  
  
'No. Tonight, she lives. Whether or not this decision will cost me later, that is a matter for me to worry over. Put down the dagger. Leave. The Hunters are closing in on you...'  
  
With that, the voice left. Salem kept quiet for what seemed like an eternity before she spoke.  
  
'Master?' Cinder asked.  
  
'Retreat, Cinder...' Salem ordered, her voice drained and defeated.  
  
'But...'  
  
'No buts,' she cut her underling short. 'You completed the mission and obtained the Fall Maiden's power. If the Lord wants the Rose to live, so be it...'  
  
Salem's voice faded as well. Cinder grunted with anger and struggled to get on her feet.  
  
"You live...this time..." she whispered to Ruby. "But you won't be so lucky again..."  
  
She reached the elevator, barely limping on her feet. A soft sound of flapping wings approached the tower's top just as the heavy metal doors hid her away from sight.

 

* * *

 

  
As soon as the flash of light faded, the Beowolf in front of Connor growled.  
  
'Shit!'  
  
He took a step back and trained the rifle onto it, ready to fill it with Dust if it pounced him. That didn't happen.  
  
The creature turned and broke into a sprint, away from him. Connor was left wide-eyed, with his heart pounding wildly. He watched it run down the street as his muscles relaxed. That was until he noticed what drew its attention.  
  
"Grimm!" A yell came from up ahead.  
  
Two figures took off, too far away for Connor to distinguish more than a blur of movement. He brought the rifle up and squeezed the trigger. Three deafening shots tore through the silence, but he missed the creature.  
  
'Fuck, this thing is strong,' he thought.  
  
The rifle punched his shoulder backward, so powerful he feared for a moment that it was dislocated out of its socket. It hadn't, fortunately, so he pushed the pain aside and lifted the rifle again. Bracing himself better, with his arms properly tensed and his back arched to absorb the shock, the trigger fell under his finger. Two more shots erupted, blinding him with their muzzle flares.  
  
One missed, but the other hit its target, leaving a hole wide enough in the Beowolf's back for him to easily fit an arm through. The creature stopped, turned, and looked in his general direction.  
  
Connor clutched the rifle tighter and waited.  He couldn't afford to waste more ammo on potshots, as he didn't know how to reload it.  
  
'Or even where to get more clips from,' he thought.  
  
The Beowolf growled, but turned back on its targets.  
  
"For real?!" Connor yelped and took off running after it.  
  
Just how far would he have to go for the creatures to notice him? Was it even possible? More questions for him to try and answer later. Right now, he had to take it down.  
  
He took a couple more shots when he realized he couldn't catch up to the Beowolf. Damn thing was a race car, but one of the bullets hit its left leg and crippled it. As he approached the creature to end its life, it looked at him.  
  
_Why..._  
  
It wasn't anything like before. The red, lifeless glare didn't slide past him this time, but made eye contact. Pierced his mind and soul, with a plea hanging heavily in it. Confusion.  
  
Connor neared the creature, feeling pity for a moment. He lifted the rifle and pointed the muzzle towards its head.  
  
It closed its eyes and leaned towards him. Connor’s heart squeezed uncomfortably a few times, much like the trigger beneath his finger. The bullets tore the Beowolf's mask and skull to shreds, and it fell at his feet as it evaporated away.  
  
He felt something however, besides the recoil. Remorse? Guilt? Sadness?  
  
'Why?'  
  
That Beowolf was no innocent puppy killed in cold blood. It was a creature of darkness, bent on destruction and feeding off of suffering. Still, it hadn't harmed _him_.  
  
He pushed those thoughts aside and approached the two people he saved. Two young girls, no older than fifteen from what he could tell. One wore a light blue dress, socks and slippers, plus a thick jacket on top. A haphazard attire, likely thrown together in a hurry as she had to run for her life. Her dark hair was tied in a tail that flowed over her left shoulder and rested on her chest. The other one was a bit taller, dressed in green jeans and with high heeled boots.

‘I'd offer her a jacket or something,’ Connor thought, seeing as she only had a low-cut shirt that revealed her chest and abdomen, ‘but yeah.’

The two froze when he started shooting, and waited for him after he was done. They had scared expressions on their faces, and he found them still panting after their hearty run.  
  
"Are you two okay?” Connor asked as he got next to them and put the rifle away.  
  
"Yeah, we're good," one of them answered.  
  
"I'm guessing you want to get to the safe zone, right?" He slowly walked past them as he talked.  
  
"Yes we do," the other one answered as they fell in line behind him.  
  
"I'll take you there, it's close by," he mumbled and reached for their hands.  
  
"We don't need you to hold our hands though, pajama boy."  
  
Wait, what? Was he in pajamas? Amidst the madness of being taken to another world and running around for dear life, the little details had escaped him. Like how he was dressed for example, or that his lungs burned and his mouth had dried up, pleading for water.  
  
'Makes sense though. I _was_  watching the show in my pajamas. It was a Friday night after all...'  
  
"Listen," he continued and conveniently dodged the pajama part, "I can take you there safely. The Grimm can't see me, and if you stay close to me, they won't see you either."  
  
Hearing that, the two didn't argue. They ran along, and he heard one mumble _neat semblance_  under her breath.  
  
'If only it were a semblance.'  
  
He figured it wasn't though, what with the whole _he had no Aura_  deal going on. That left him with the need to find out just what exactly it _was_  later, although he already had a rough idea.  
  
"By the way," one of them suddenly burst out, "can you go back and get the rest of our friends as well, mister Hunter?"  
  
'Mister Hunter, I like the sound of that.'  
  
"Sure thing, just tell me where they are," he reassured them with a smile, confident enough that he could pull it off.  
  
"Inside that red brick building at the end of the street," she said, pointing at the only building within sight that matched her description.  
  
He escorted the girls two streets away from the zone, but approached it no further. That was about how close to it he was comfortable getting without fearing he might be spotted.  
  
"Take a left turn at the next intersection, and the safe zone should be up ahead. It's hard to miss."  
  
He turned and clutched the rifle. One of the girls walked off, but the other one lingered in place for a moment.  
  
"Thank you, mister Hunter!" She yelled after him.  
  
That brought a shy smile to Connor's lips. It wasn't unheard of, but to receive gratitude for his violence was a rare experience. One that made his heart pound ever so faster, and helped him feel better about himself, even if for a moment. For a split second, Marie came to mind, all those months ago back at the club. Her terrified expression when Connor charged in blindly to _defend_  her disheartened him, and he wondered if she'd react the same now. 

Connor pushed her out of his mind, deciding to savor the situation at hand. He lifted his left arm above his head and waved at the girl, not turning around as he walked off.  
  
"No problem, take care..."

* * *

  
  
'Oh? What do we have here?'  
  
The figure stopped, noticing a wee little mouse make his way between the Grimm in the streets below her.  
  
A wee little mouse, with a wee little rifle.  
  
She pushed a pink lock of hair behind her ear and reached for her earpiece. She tapped it a couple of times and waited for the static noise to fade.  
  
"Hello?" A grumpy voice answered. "Are you there, Sigma?" The voice continued, growing impatient.  
  
"Yes," she mumbled.  
  
"Do you have anything to report?" The voice asked after a moment's worth of silence.  
  
She watched the mouse walk further away. Her chest gave a squeeze as her heart skipped a beat.  
  
_Alike._  
  
"Yes..." She answered with hesitation. "The evacuation is almost complete, I can't find anyone."  
  
"Good. Return to the crash site," the man on the other end ordered.  
  
"Can...can I please hunt some more?" She asked quietly, almost afraid to pose the question. The man sighed deeply. Not a good sign if she’d ever seen one. "Please?" She pleaded again.  
  
"Fine," the man gave in. "But you are not allowed to consume, only to kill. Understood?" A pause lingered in the air, for a heartbeat longer than it should've. "Understood, Sigma?" The man asked again, more pressing this time.  
  
"Understood, General," she answered. "I promise I'll behave."  
  
"You’d better," the man mumbled, "and have fun."  
  
The call hung up and static returned in the earpiece. She took her finger off the button, and resumed watching the mouse, which got quite a ways away in the short window of time she took her eyes off him.  
  
But not too far for her to lose sight of him. She dashed from one roof to the next, following and observing him in silence. She found him very interesting. So interesting in fact, that she decided not to report him. That way maybe, _just_  maybe, she could keep the little mouse all to herself.


End file.
